


21st Century Breakdown

by emiliearenkid



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Blending two things I love, M/M, MJ is Pansexual, More tags to be added, Peter Has Depression, Peter is bisexual, Punk Rock Opera, Starker-centric, This will be interesting but I have a plan, Tony has PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, first chapter is short but others will be longer, they are both superheros, they meet in a coffee shop but that isn’t necessarily a big thing, they're questionably good for each other, tony is bisexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-05-17 13:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14833553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emiliearenkid/pseuds/emiliearenkid
Summary: Peter is working hard at school. Between after-school study sessions, decathlon practice, and the stress of being at Midtown Tech, he doesn’t need any distractions. When he accidentally spills coffee on his idol, however, they begin to become their own distractions as the 21st century is breaking down around them.A lengthy, depressing, and plot-heavy song-fic inspired by Green Day’s album, 21st Century Breakdown. This is definitely not going to be canon-compliant.





	1. Song of the Century

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, what’s up. I haven’t written fanfiction in a while but I think I’ve gotten better at writing so I’m giving it another try. Let’s see how it goes, shall we? You can follow my Tumblr for updates on the fic, thoughts as I'm writing, and other cool stuff at emiliearenkid.

The sun is low in the sky and the air is oppressive. To the west, a gathering of dark grey clouds gets farther and farther away while the wake of its actions dry in shallow puddles and drop from newly green trees. Although the rosy colors of twilight have only just fled in the wake of the sun's fading, the city that never sleeps lives up to its name. 

Few people are talking to anyone other than those on the other side of their phones. Cars slide by and horns can be heard in the distance. The sidewalk carries people both ways. A few people are wearing business suits, some in shorts, a tank top, and sneakers, and others in more casual and commonplace clothes. Up ahead, someone sets their guitar down on the still damp table and opens up the case by their feet. Their hair is short and black and a touch of it stretches across his chin and lower jaw. He is wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans with light brown vans. He strums a chord and hums one of the middle notes. Another chord, this one in a minor key but still humming the same note. He returns to the original one and lets it fade out as he begins singing: 

"Sing us a song of the century," 

The sidewalk is paved in concrete without accidental cracks. Tony hears the performer begin from a couple stores down but continues his pace with hardly a blink. The people are thinner here and in front of him someone turns to listen before heading into the building. The scent of ground coffee spills through the open door. As Tony slows his pace, the woman in front of him continues on with her hand clasped inside another's. To his left, a decorated alleyway opens between the two buildings. Three sets of wooden chairs and tables sit under a blue awning, but none of them are darkened with the dampness covering the rest of the world. The front of the store only has the black metal table and a single chair at the edge of the road set out. The blue awnings travel around to the front where double doors stand propped open with small stone gargoyles. The building itself is made of a dark red brick interspersed with tall but thin windows every foot. 

"that's louder than bombs and eternity." 

Tony turns to the performer to his right at his words. The man is looking off into the alley and shaking his head with the words. Another wave of coffee wafts past Tony and he closes his eyes and turns to the left and passes through the doorway. The inside is cluttered. The scent is somehow stronger in here and there are double as many tables and chairs as outside. A younger woman leaves the cobblestone counter and sits at a table in the back near a large but empty fireplace. The interior walls are made of the same brick as outside, but the floor is wooden. Tony glances around as someone behind him gasps. He can barely see the brick in between the number of pictures. Other patrons look up and one to Tony's left widens their eyes and pats their friend, a very nicely dressed but visibly stiff man. She mentions his name and he too turns to stare. 

"The era of static and contraband," 

"Mr. Stark!" The same person who originally gasped calls. "Can I get a picture?" Tony closes his eyes and breathes out steadily. When he opens his eyes, he fixes a small smile onto his face and turns around. 

"I'm sorry, but I will have to decline at the moment."  
"What? But, please, my children will be thrilled to see this."  
Tony takes another glance as he turns around to face her. "If you would be so kind as to wait until I have purchased my beverage, it would be my pleasure." There are four other people at the three tables between him and the door alone. 

"That's leading us into the promised land." 

As he turns back to so just that, he feels a quick pressure and release. Then heat sliding down his front and a much stronger scent of chocolate that before. His gaze snaps to the source in front of him. The person is only a few inches shorter than himself naturally but their shoulders are hunched so much their head only comes to his shoulders. They have short brown hair parted on the left and are wearing a darker hoodie with a light grey hood. 

"Tell us a story that's by candlelight," 

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry, sir. I-I was distracted and I wasn't thinking and I just turned around." His voice is quick and relatively high pitched. 

Tony's face goes from the practiced smile to a curl of the lips as he steps back from the clumsy person. What liquid didn't make it onto his shirt and blazer is forgotten and spilling from the dropped cup. The boy finally looks up at him with eyes wide that somehow manages to get wider as his mouth opens again.  
"Oh nonono this can't be happening. Mr. Stark I'm so so sorry. I'll pay for a new suit or, um, something, I just, oh god." 

"waging a war and losing the fight." 

"Hey," an older voice calls from in front of Tony. The boy jolts and spins on the balls of his feet before Tony has time to blink. 

"Thank you so much," he says to the woman as he takes her offered paper towels. "I'm sorry," he turns back around, "I don't know if this will do anything." 

He offers the paper towel but Tony asks the woman instead, "Do you have a back entrance, by any chance?" She, thankfully, nods, and he makes his way around the corner of the counter. The only person to see the stain is the girl in the corner, but her hair has fallen past her face and her eyes are trained on the paper-sized fluorescent screen, so he is hardly worried. He hears the kid follow a couple steps behind him and raises an eyebrow. 

They pass by the bathrooms and through a flower-painted door onto the side alley. As before, the performer is still playing but his words are more muffled. No one is sitting at the tables and Tony breathes a sigh, letting the tension out of his shoulders a little bit. 

"They're playing the song of the century," 

"Thank you," he thanks the woman. She nods and pats his shoulder before moving on and pausing next to the kid behind him and then moving back inside. "JARVIS, please send a car to my location." 

"Yes, sir." The voice calls quietly back from above his ear.  
"I'm so sorry," the boy says again. "Seriously, I'll do anything to make up for it."  
Tony turns to look behind him with a raised eyebrow but brings his frown into a more neutral expression. "There will be no need. I admit I was," he pauses, "also not looking when I turned around. 

"Are you sure?" He questions with a quieter voice and finally looks up Tony with something other than a terrified expression. He takes this moment to study his features before taking a step back and scan the boy up and down from behind darkened lenses.  
"Yes, I'm sure. I'll find coffee later tonight. This will be a pain to wash out but god knows I modified the chemical balances in my laundry detergent for a reason." 

"of panic and promise and prosperity." 

The kid opens his mouth with his eyebrows drawn together and a question in his eyes but closes it almost as fast, although the question still remains. "Thank you so much."  
"Yeah no problem, kid. Speaking of coffee, hah, I think I owe you a new one."  
"Oh, uh, you don't have to do that. Really, it was completely my fault I'm so sorry, again."  
"I'm guessing you have school or something tomorrow?"  
"Uh, yes. Midtown Tech. I normally come here after to study but seriously, Mr. Stark I can't accept anything-"  
"Perfect, I'll see you tomorrow then. I'm guessing your name is Peter?"  
"How?"  
"Your cup. The woman must really like you because you also had a $1 off a cookie coupon written in sharpie on it next to your name. I suppose I owe you that too." 

"Tell me a story into that goodnight." 

"You really don't have to."  
"Tomorrow after school it is. Now go back to your studying, it's already night."  
"I, yes, sir. Thank you. I'm so sorry again."  
"Mmm." 

The kid walks backwards before turning and slamming the door behind him. Midtown Tech, huh, guess that means there's at least something to talk about so this won't be too uncomfortable. 

"JARVIS."  
"Yes?"  
"Can you see how many Peters attend Midtown Tech?"  
A couple seconds pass before he gets a response, "Two, sir."  
"Tell me about him."  
"He is on the decathlon team and plays in the band."  
"Is that all?"  
"All without digging deeper, sir."  
"Later."  
JARVIS pauses, "As you wish."  
"What is it?"  
"Sir, he is only a junior. If your previous adventures are any indication, I insist that you refrain from tomorrow's meeting."  
"It's not like that. Did you see the bags under his eyes?"  
"My scans indicate that there was a darker pigment beneath his eyes than is found in an average healthy teenager, yes."  
"I owe him a coffee."  
"Yes, sir." 

"Sing us a song for me."


	2. 21st Century Breakdown (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They each go through their day and meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Jeez this took a while to write. I ended up rewriting it, so it's not as long as initially planned. Sorry about that. If you guys want updates on the writing of this fic and my thoughts, my tumblr is emiliearenkid.

"JARVIS, turn my usual playlist on shuffle," Tony commands as he steps into the already-lit bathroom.

"Born into Nixon, I was raised in hell."

"JARVIS, what is my schedule today?"   
"You have a meeting in 2 hours for finalizing the details on the acquisition of several acres of land."   
"Ah, yes. Anything else?"   
"A meeting with PR about your most recent," JARVIS paused for a moment, "incident."   
"Coffee?"   
"That would be correct, sir."   
"Is there a way to perhaps move that meeting to tomorrow?"   
"The speed with which the meeting was decided upon leads me to believe that they would prefer it done as soon as possible."   
"I am already occupied this afternoon."   
"Sir, I would like to reiterate that-"   
"That there is in fact an opening in tomorrow's schedule in the late morning. Changing the dates won't be a problem, will it?"   
JARVIS pauses for long enough that Tony wonders if he will never answer while he looks with both eyebrows raised at the minuscule camera and sensor located next to the mirror.   
"No, sir." JARVIS finally answers. Tony looks away as water begins streaming from the shower's faucet and closes the door behind him.

"A welfare child where the teamsters dwelled."

Sunlight peaks through Peter's window. It is only the faintest touches of dawn, but the young boy is already awake. In hand is a navy blue backpack and 4 textbooks are scattered on the floor around him. His other hand is rubbing the stretchy material of a red sweatshirt between his thumb, pointer, and middle fingers. A low rumble begins in the distance and Peter stands up and sets the bag down. The window rattles slightly as a train speeds by outside.

He looks at the clock on his nightstand before gripping the fabric tighter and kneeling back down next to his bag. The top goes to the bottom first, followed by his pants. Two metal cuffs go in a higher pocket on the inside of the backpack and then the books follow on top of the clothes.

At first, he closes the zipper quickly but slows when the loud noise cuts through the air. Peter checks the clock again and frowns when it reads exactly 5:30 in the morning. He unplugs his phone from the cord and the cord from the wall, shoving both in the outermost pocket and checks his reflection in the small mirror on the inside of his closet door. With a nod he turns the knob on his bedroom door and opens it as slowly as he can manage.

"The last one born and the first one to run,"

Peter closes the door behind him. Every click of the doorknob urges him to do so even slower until finally it settles into place. He slips the backpack over both shoulders and tests each step before he puts too much weight on his feet as he makes his way down the hallway. Peter breathes in and out once when he's out of the vicinity of the bedrooms and makes his way towards the door to the apartment.

"Peter?" Aunt May calls to his left. His eyebrows widen and his jaw opens as he turns towards the kitchen.   
"Aunt May!" He smiles and straightens his shoulders. "I didn't realize you were awake."   
"If I could help it, I wouldn't be. What are you doing up so early?"   
"I forgot to tell you last night. I'm meeting Ned early to work on a Chemistry Lab that's due tomorrow."   
"Oh," Aunt May's face relaxes, "Good luck then. Are you going to grab something for breakfast?"   
"I was too focused on not waking you up to think about that," Peter answers honestly.   
"I'll pack you something quickly," she decides and turns to the fridge. She sticks her hand in and moves a tub to the side before frowning and closing the door. "Toast it is then."   
"That's really okay, Aunt May. I'm running a little behind as it is."   
"Are you sure? It won't take long."   
"I'm sure. I'll see you afterschool, okay? I'm meeting MJ again, like usual."   
"Ah right, thanks for reminding me. Dishes when you get home, alright?"   
"Yes, Aunt May," Peter agrees as he grabs the handle and twists it.

It turns a little and his hand feels the tight resistance. He looks down at it and forces the smile wider as he unlocks the door and finally slips through it. With a click, the white door with black letters, 413, closes behind him.

"My town was blind from refinery sun."

Peter speeds down to the first floor and stops outside on the concrete steps. To the left, the sidewalk has a couple cracks and people are already up and moving. A woman in a short-sleeved red dress pulls two children, girls, behind her while typing out a message on her phone. An older gentleman with a cane is hobbling down past the brick buildings and peaking into the windows as he passes. In his other hand, a tablet is nestled between a leather cover. Another woman wears gym shorts and a blue sports bra as she jogs past him with cordless earbuds stuffed into her ears.

Peter's eyes follow her to the right, where the scenery is not much different. This side has a tree in the middle of the sidewalk growing between his building and the one next door, but that is the most prominent difference. He looks down at his own phone before focusing on everyone else before him. Down the street, a man in a suit pulls out his phone and takes a picture of the rising sun. A biker rides by with his music blasting while his friend snaps a picture of them and starts typing on the screen without looking at it.

"My generation is zero."

Peter looks down at his phone one more time before slipping it into his front pocket.   
He promptly turns to the left and holds a backpack strap in each hand as he quickens his pace to a light jog. The sun is rising in front of him and there is already a breeze starting to pick up. Peter's hair is ruffled slightly, but he ducks to the left and into an alleyway before it has time to mess it up too much. He slips the rough fabric off of his shoulders and sets it on the ground. After glancing up at the entrance, he shoves his hand to the right side and bypasses the books.

With a tug, his Spiderman outfit comes out. Peter slides his hand back in and flinches as the velcro rips. He takes two circular metal contraptions out and pressed the flap down over the pocket once more. The metal is cool when he slides them onto his wrists and he shivers before slipping farther into the alley. Within a few seconds Peter pulls his shirt and jacket over his head and revels in the looser fabric of his sweatshirt. His pants follow suit and he stuffs the nicer clothes into the bottom of his bag. He grabs it and steps further into the alley again. Another glance to the front and he forces his hand down and away from him as a white sticky substance attaches to the brick wall, plastic trash cans, and his bag.

He looks up and shoots his hand out again. Behind his mask, Peter smiles and grips the string connecting him and the wall. He climbs on top of the cans and readjusts his grip before jumping and starting the continuous motion of creating spider webs.

It takes a couple swings before he is able to get a hang of it, but then the wind is pushing against his body and and he smiles. Spiderman swings above the apartments and latches onto an even taller office building to his left. The city sprawls out below him as he takes a moment to get foot and handholds. Several other brick buildings make up a good deal of his gaze, but in the distance the shining river glides past. The sun has risen so only the bottom of it is still below the horizon. A few white puffy clouds have gathered in stark contrast to the bright blue sky.

"I never made it as a working class hero."

"Can I help you with those?" Peter asks when he reaches the ground again. The sun is even higher and his phone reads 7:14. He slips the device back into his pocket before the older woman nods. She has short hair interspersed with dyed black and faded white strands.   
Her eyes look him up and down before a "Sure," leaves her lips. Instead of handing over any of the six plastic bags on her arms, though, she puts her hand in his and lays her arm on top of his offered one. Her body leans into his as she continues walking forward so Peter follows along beside her.

More people are awake and wandering the streets now. People drive, jog, and walk past them as he steers the old woman to walk closer to the right so they stay out of people's way. "Do you live nearby?" Peter asks as he checks his phone with his other hand. The white numbers now read 7:20.   
"Around this corner," she replies as they near the bend. Peter nods and puts his phone away. They turn and she stops in front of a door nestled between a creperie and a smoothie shop.   
"I'm sorry, I have to go," Peter apologizes when she lets go of his arm to reach for the doorknob.   
The woman turns back before having touched it, "I have something for you."   
"You really don't need to do that."   
"I insist," she sets the bags down and reaches into one pocket, frowns, and searches the other. Her face brightens and she holds out a folded $20 bill and Peter's eyes widen.

He takes a step back and puts his hand palm out in front of the money. She frowns and shoves it into his hand again. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Good luck with your groceries." Peter runs back around the corner and checks the time again: 7:23. He holds his arm up and feels the machine at his wrist fire. Gripping the string, he breathes out before bending his legs and launching into the air.

He makes it to the alley with his backpack in under a minute and immediately pulls off his outfit. He rips the bag free from the webbing and slips on his jeans, t-shirt, and sweater and shoves the red and blue ensemble into the bottom again.

"21st century breakdown:"

Peter checks that he has his phone before jogging out of the alley and down the sidewalk. Although the puffy white clouds are getting smaller as the sun burns their water away, it's heat only causes him to produce sweat as he speeds down into the subway. With every step he takes, the air grows thicker and warmer. He slides his backpack around so he can unzip the front pocket and remove his subway card, immediately putting it back when the turnstile lets him through.

The boy turns right and flies down another set of stairs before stopping. The place already has several people waiting, either for one side or the other. Peter stands towards the right and takes a moment to look around. His own body moves up and down slightly with each inhale and exhale, but others are in varying states of rush. Most are on their phones or listening to music, some are staring off at nothing, and still others are like Peter and watching as people come down.

As his heart rate slows and his breathing becomes lighter, the teen feels his pocket vibrate. He pulls the phone out and turns the brightness down slightly before looking at who it is. His lock screen background is completely red save for the shadow of a small black spider hanging upside down in the center.

Ned: Peter, where are you? We were supposed to work on the lab this morning.   
Peter: I know I'm sorry. Running late but I should be there soon.   
Ned: School starts soon. After school?

He sighs before answering:

Peter: Sorry, man, I have to study with MJ afterschool.   
Ned: You're still doing that? Hasn't it been 2 months?   
Peter: Yeah, I know. Having someone there keeps me focused but not /too/ focused, you know?   
Ned: I have absolutely no idea but I'll take your word for it.

Peter hears a train in the distance. Even without having just run, the air is pressing and his skin feels sticky underneath his layers. The noise gets louder and people start to put their devices away as the vehicle slides past them with a screech and rush of air. The doors hiss as they slide open and people pour out onto the deck, already making their way for the exit as others try and push onto the train.

Peter barely remembers to get off at his stop. No one on the train even spares him a glance despite his jump when the automated voice calls out the stop's name. When the doors hiss open again, he is already moving. Pushing past people to get out at they want to get in and he makes it to the top of the stairs before needing to check the time. 7:46.

"I once was lost but never was found."

Had it really been only half an hour ago that he was Spiderman? It felt like so much longer. That half hour was good though because Peter hadn't stopped moving at the top. He pushes through the turnstiles again and sprints up to fresh air. The boy takes a moment to breathe before moving again. A few blocks to the east and the school stands proud and bright in the morning sun.

A few buses sit outside, but no one comes out of them. Peter doesn't actually know anyone who uses those buses in the morning. Maybe Flash? He seems wealthy enough to live around here.

"I doubt he would be caught riding them though," Peter mutters aloud.   
"What was that?" MJ questions as she slides in next to him when he enters through the large doorway.   
"What? Nothing," he answers and takes a step away from her.   
"Mhm," she goes back to her book but walks next to Peter nonetheless.

Peter: I'm here, where are you?   
Ned: Chemistry Lab. Figured I would work on some of it until you got here   
Peter: Ned, buddy, you're a genius   
Ned: Oh it's nothing

Peter doesn't bother with responding. He makes it to the Lab in time to see his best friend starting to pack up.   
"I'm sorry, man, I don't know what happened this morning."   
"It's okay. Would tomorrow morning work better?"   
"Yes, that would be great."   
"Are you sure you can wake up that early this time? The lab is due at the beginning of class."   
"I think we got it," Peter smiles and begins a series of motions.   
Ned picks up after the first 2 and completes the handshake with his mirrored ones, ending with a smile.

"I think I'm losing what's left of my mind"

The school day, is to put it lightly, uneventful. His AP Calculus teacher reminds them that their unit test is Monday. His AP Chemistry teacher reminds them that their labs are due tomorrow. His AP Computer programming teacher is having her child so she won't be in for a month. The only thought getting him through it is the heap of emotions related to yesterday.

He can't believe he spilled coffee all over Tony Stark.   
Tony Stark.  
And he wasn't mad.   
Well, not that mad.   
And he was going to see him again today.   
What the hell was he thinking?  
What the hell is he thinking?

"To the 20th century deadline."

The final bell rings and Peter has never been out of the classroom faster. He doesn't even stop at his locker on the way out and speed walks for the exit. He has a small smile on his face and misses when his view of the doors becomes obstructed by his least favorite person until he physically smacks into them.

"Heyyyyy Parker. Where you heading off to so fast today? Going on a date with Michelle again?" Flash questions with a little too much enthusiasm and volume.   
"She's pansexual, Flash."   
"She still has a weird fascination with you, loser. Besides, she has never confirmed that herself."

Peter clenches his fist before turning and finally getting out of there. Ned would be proud. His phone buzzes with a text.

MJ: Gonna be a bit late.   
Peter: I'm save a table.

When he sends the message, though, he stops walking and his eyes widen.   
"Shit. I can't be at two tables at once. MJ will understand, right? She even said she would be late. Maybe she'll be so late she won't end up showing. No, wait," he continues walking, this time a decent amount faster. "what if Mr. Stark doesn't show up? I mean, why would he? He probably just said that to make me feel better or make himself look better or, or something. He's probably super busy and forgot about it already. Yeah. Perfect."

He doesn't notice the one odd look he gets as he walks over while talking to himself, but arrives only a few minutes after he left the school. A look in the window shows that only one table is open inside and a line of 3 people are already ahead of him. Without hesitation, Peter enters through the open doorway.

[I was made of poison and blood.]

Tony hates meetings. He shouldn't need to go to them and, other than a few necessary ones, he could much rather peruse a summary when a secretary could send it over and make decisions from there. Pepper is insistent, though. When he gets out, it's only just before 1:30 so he heads back to change his suit into something a little more casual before taking a cab to the cafe. He arrives a little after 2 and gets in line.

'Happy Endings' seems a little extravagant for such a cozy shop, but Tony doesn't mention it. There's only a handful of people there again, but the atmosphere could not be more different.

Last time, people hushed and took their cameras and phones out. Last time, he had been standing behind a cute and clumsy kid. Last time, he didn't have time to appreciate the looks on the inside. Hell, last time, he didn't even get to buy his drink.

The barista is a younger girl with dyed indigo hair and a lip ring. Tony looks at the machines from afar while he waits. They're not as shiny as new, but the surface isn't as faded as some tech gets from overuse and over-cleaning. They look pretty standard model without too many buttons or switches. Maybe he could make some adjustments that way they could be more functional. Or, he could focus on coffee, an apologetic kid, and his job. Perhaps not the last part. He's had enough of that for one day.

"-r? Excuse me? Sir?" The barista calls.   
"Sorry," Tony shakes his head and steps forward so that he is standing right up against the counter. "I'll take a cappuccino with 3 espresso shots."   
The girl raises her eyebrow but nods in approval, "Long day then."   
"You have no idea."

"Condemnation is what I understood."

The coffee is warm in his hand. It's foamy at the top and dark underneath and Tony appreciates it enough to drop a 20 in the tip jar when he passes by again. That scores him the second raised eyebrow of the day. Peter still isn't out of school yet, so he sits at the window to wait until he passes by.

It's nice not to have a camera shoved in your face, Tony thinks as he relaxes his arms onto the table and holds his head up with one and his coffee with the other. His outfit isn't even that inconspicuous. Jeans, t-shirt, jacket, sunglasses, and a hat go a long way. It's easier, better. Draws less attention while getting what you want faster. Too bad the kid doesn't get out until around 3. It starts and ends later than what's convenient.

"Video games of the Tower's fall,"

What is he even doing here? In a wooden chair, in a random cafe, looking out a thin window onto people walking by. He should go back, this was a stupid idea. Buying coffee for the kid who spilled his on you? Who does that? Tony releases his grip on his drink by pushing it farther away from himself on the table. The hand he puts to his forehead is warmer than the other.

"Um, sir? I think you might have dropped this."   
Tony turns towards the voice and opens his posture out as he looks at what's being held out to him. It's a card with floral designs in swirls and borders, but larger than an average deck of cards. "I can't say I did," he replies already turning back to the table.   
"Can I leave it on the table in case someone comes back for it then?"   
"Sure, go ahead."

He checks his watch. It's only been a few minutes. He turns his head back to people-watching.

"Homeland security could kill us all."

The first person to pass by his limited line of sight is a police officer. Pitiful heroes. They can be helpful at times, but an alarming number are corrupt. When you have the power to make them, your own morals become the rules.   
Tony exhales and shakes his head. If he's looking objectively, they're not all that different from himself.

Only, he asks questions before killing. They have no qualms about asking after. Oh yeah, and he has an actual suit for protection, not just a vest.

"My generation is zero."

Tony closes his eyes. When he opens them, his hand reaches out and grasps his coffee. It's noticeably cooler and most of the foam is gone, but he takes a sip anyway. He smiles and looks up towards the barista. She's busy and doesn't catch his eye so he looks away and takes another sip instead. It's a good thing he left a tip, 4 shots definitely deserves it.

The caffeine hasn't kicked in yet so his body sags against the table once more after he sets the drink down. Everyone here looks so young. Several are college age and a couple even younger are starting to show up. He's the creepy old dude in the corner that everyone avoids. The two tables on either side of him? Empty. Every other window seat? Taken.

Tony shifts in his seat and looks around the room again. There's only one older couple in the room and they both have long white hair and canes. He was the only one in between. The man takes another sip of his coffee.

"I never made it as a working class hero."

"Mommy?" A child calls outside the window.   
"What is it now? We're running late."   
The child holding his parent's hand stops and holds out his toy. Tony recognizes it as a figurine of his glorified self. "How can Iron Man fly?"   
"I don't know. Now, come on, and stop asking me questions until we get there." The woman, wearing jeans, a blouse, and a bun with several flyaways blowing in the breeze, tugs on her child's hand and they move out of Tony's line of sight.

"21st century breakdown:"

After the first person in line heads out, another woman comes in and sets her bag behind the counter. The barista hands her an apron and the name of the next person's drink and she starts to get to work. The line moves quicker now, and it's only 5 minutes before Peter has his turn.

The woman at the register gives him a barely hidden smile and a raised eyebrow. "Will you be causing us any more trouble today, Peter?"   
"No!" he denies. "I'll just have, um, my usual. You know."   
"Mhm," she rings up his total and inputs the $10 he hands her. "Where's your friend today?"   
"MJ? Oh, she'll be here soon. I just came to grab a table."   
"Here you go then," she hands him his drink and he leaves $1 in the tip jar. 

His entire demeanor brightens as he turns to look around the room. Peter's gaze slides past all the people with backpacks, laptops, and phones, but the suited man from yesterday is absent. His smile slowly falls as another sweep still doesn't reveal him. As he walks to MJ's usual table in the back, he sighs and slumps onto the table in front of him without taking his backpack off.

"I once was lost but never was found."

Tony raises an eyebrow at the fall in the kid's demeanor and his moping in the actual corner of the room. His eyebrows draw together before he seems to get it and looks down at himself. The kid probably didn't notice his change in clothing. With a sigh, he takes another gulp of his coffee and gets out of his chair. As he slides his coffee off of the table, the card flutters to the ground. Tony looks down at this side of it and picks it up from the ground. On the side he didn't see, an artistic representation of a tower is drawn. Lightning is striking the building and the only window has fire pouring out of it and up to the sky. He raises and eyebrow and pockets the card.

As he approaches the darker side of the room, Peter doesn't even look up once. Only when Tony pulls out the chair opposite the kid and takes his glasses off does he pan his eyes upward. As the man slides into it and sets his coffee down, Peter eyes widen and his mouth drops.

The resulting smile is worth it.

"I think I'm losing what's left of my mind"

"You, uh, you look different today."   
"Is that any way to say hello to someone who would have been buying you coffee if you hadn't done so yourself?"   
Peter's eyes widen as he looks down at the drink in hand and back up at Tony. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry I completely forgot. I was in a rush to get here and I wasn't focused or anything. It was just natural because normally I get the drinks while MJ goes to save us seats and I can't believe I completely forgot I'm so sorry Mr's Stark."

"Kid, it's okay. Do you want another one when you're finished then?"   
"Um, I would really love to but I don't think I should have that much caffeine in one day. I'm so sorry again if you don't want to get me one or anything or maybe at a different time or something that's okay too," Peter rambles as his face gets more and more red.   
"Oh so that's what this is," Tony smirks. "You just want another date."   
Peter's eyes widen again and he puts his hands out, "Nonono, that's not what this is. This isn't anything, this is me messing up and oh god now you think I'm a stalker or something but that's not it at all I was just really excited to see you because it's not everyday you just have coffee with Tony Stark of all people and I forgot and ugh," he puts his head in his hands.

"To the 20th century deadline."

Tony raises his eyebrows and looks around at the rest of the shop, "Okay, kid, whatever you say."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know in the comments or on tumblr what you thought, good or bad, and the next update should be coming sooner rather than later!


	3. 21st Century Breakdown (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting, guys! Also, happy beginning of Starker Week 2018! This one was just not writing the way I wanted it to, so the pacing and some content changed from my original outline. I hope you all enjoy it anyway!

“We are the class of, the class of thirteen” 

Silence follows Tony’s dismissal. Peter’s head still rests in his hands, but the red tint in his cheeks fades as the silence stretches longer and longer. Tony’s eyes grow bored of the shop and return to looking down at the boy before him.   
“So, kid.”   
“Yeah?” Peter questions as he picks his head up. He hears the man’s voice continue on, but his gaze is drawn away from him and instead focuses on the door. A teenager with dark hair and skin has just walked in with her backpack and stands just off to the side with a raised eyebrow as she looks directly at him. 

Peter’s eyes widen as he motions with a finger between them and then pointing at the table before raising both hands and doing the same with him and Tony. MJ slowly nods and rolls her eyes before going to sit at the only vacant table. 

“Born in the era of humility.” 

Tony is no longer looking at Peter. Instead, as Peter focuses back on him, his idol is turned away and looking at his friend. 

“Who’s that?” He finally questions after she has sat down and he turns back around. Peter feels a vibration in his pocket that he reaches for but doesn’t look at. “She was here yesterday,” his eyebrows draw together as he looks around at the other tables beside them, “at this table, actually.” 

“How did you remember that?” Peter nods with wide eyes.   
Tony taps the side of his head and refocuses on the teen, “I remember a lot of things.”   
Peter can only nod and stare. 

“We are the desperate in the decline,” 

After a minute, Tony checks his watch and frowns. Peter immediately tenses. “Um, Mr. Stark?”   
“Yeah?”   
“How was, well, how was your day?” Peter finishes to the unrelenting gaze of Tony.   
The older man pauses for a moment before turning to the side and hiding a smile behind his hand. “Of all the things you could think to talk about, that’s the best you got?”   
“I mean, we don’t have to talk about it. Or anything for that matter I just thought it might be better than, you know, silence.” Peter is gripping his coffee with both hands and forcing a small smile onto his face. 

“Fair enough. My day was uneventful for the most part. Meetings, schedules, all that fun stuff. Tomorrow will probably be the same, but you’re the most eventful part of my day so good for you.”   
“Really?” Peter perks up and his smile becomes more genuine.   
“That isn’t a difficult task, kid; but yeah.” Peter deflates for a moment, but his energy returns. 

“Raised by the bastards of 1969.” 

“Well, I can relate to that, at least. The uneventful part, I mean. School was kind of tedious, but at least Chem and Physics were exciting today.”   
“Yeah?” Tony comments lifting his cup to take a sip and relaxing into the chair. “Why?” 

“My name is no one, your long lost son,” 

“In Chem today, we were working on a lab, but my partner and I are almost finished with it and his part is what is taking the longest. So, while he was figuring that out, I took a bit of time to experiment. It was just basic stuff, but I feel a lot better when I’m actually doing something with my hands rather than writing formulae on a paper, you know?”   
“Yeah kid, I do know. Do you think that I got where I am now by theorizing? You’re not going to create new technology by reading a textbook; you have to go out and do it.” 

“You get it. I, uh, may or may not have gotten in trouble once or twice for doing it when I wasn’t supposed to be experimenting, but it’s so much easier to learn by actually doing it.”   
“Admittedly, I am a terrible role model and I’m going to preface this conversation with the adult response which is to tell you to not do it when you’re supposed to be doing something else. Now, real talk. Your teacher should be less uptight and let you guys try stuff out sometimes.”   
“Well, I mean, he does sometimes.”   
“Nope, the adult is speaking. The important question: Have you created anything worth talking about?” 

“Born on the Fourth of July.”

Peter grows silent for a moment as Tony sits waiting for an answer. “I guess? It’s really not anything special, but I’m hoping to get into MIT and maybe someone would pick up my idea for research.”   
“Yeah? MIT, so a Junior then?”   
“I,” Peter pauses, “Yeah. High school. Obviously.”   
“So how are grades and such looking for you then? MIT worthy?”   
“Grades should be fine, but they could always be better. Right now I’m most stressed about the SAT’s because that’s where a lot of kids can make it or break it. I’ve already taken 2 with near perfect scores, but I’ve been studying for such a long time that I’m hoping my next one will give me that edge.”   
“How long?”   
“Studying?” Peter questions, and then continues at Tony’s nod. “Uh, about 4 years now. A lot of kids at my school have been studying for longer which makes me nervous, but I’ve put a lot of time and effort in so it’s kind of nerve-wracking.” 

“Hold up. Four years? And it hasn’t been just an interest that you come back to every now and then?”   
“No, not at all. Colleges are really competitive and I need to show them that I’m as good as possible if I want to get better scholarships and acceptance.” 

“Wow. If you’re going through this much work, you have to have a plan then for what you want to do when you graduate.”   
Peter pauses again, and his hand reaches towards his bag before he shakes himself and refocuses. “I, uh, I’m not quite sure yet, actually. I was hoping they would accept me for undecided.” 

“Raised in the era of heroes and cons” 

Tony nods and looks off in the distance. “Again, I’m not great at giving advice, but do something you can do and do something you love. I have a passion for creating machines. The meetings and the heroics are all just stuff I have to put up with to do what I love.”   
“Wow, I, thanks Mr. Stark. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never thought I would be receiving college advice from someone like you.”   
“Someone like me?”   
“Yeah, you know, already in the field and self-assured and wealthy and popular and stuff.” 

“That left me for dead or alive.” 

Tony takes a moment before he answers. His hand tightens on his cup before he forces himself to relax his posture even as he straightens and sits forward in the chair. “Kid, I’m really not all that you’ve set me up to be.”   
Peter leans over the table and releases his grip on his coffee in favor of motioning with his hands. “But you are. I’ve seen your interviews and on the news and you’re just, you’re amazing Mr. Stark. I really look up to you.” 

“Not everyone is a hero, kid,” a pause, “Peter. Not everyone can be or should be. Even the Avengers and I, we all have motivations and reasons for doing what we do.”   
“But,” Peter begins before Tony cuts him off again.   
“And not all of them are good.” 

“I am a nation, a worker of pride,” 

Silence once again follows his statement. It is still the uncomfortable type of silence that feels like there is more that could be said, but this time it’s a touch more comfortable. Tony takes a gulp of his coffee. It’s cold and bitter, but it’s almost gone now. What is he even supposed to talk about with the kid? He doesn’t even know how they went on that depressing tangent; the kid must think that he’s insane. 

Maybe he should continue thinking that way. Everyone either thinks he’s a genius or insane; sometimes both. 

Peter is looking down at the table with a troubled expression: his lips are curled and his face is scrunched up. Tony evaluates their past conversations. If he isn’t thinking too hard, the kid looks kind of cute. He checks his watch again. It’s only been around 10 minutes since the last time. 

“My debt to the status quo.” 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter begins. Tony looks up and he continues without looking up from the table, “You don’t have to keep sitting with me just to keep up appearances. If you have to leave for some reason or another I won’t blame you.”   
“Where’s this coming from?”   
“I don’t know, you just check your watch a lot and look like you don’t want to be here.”   
“Peter, if I didn’t want to be here, do you think I would still be sitting in this strangely comfortable chair?”   
“Well, maybe,” He pauses as Tony raises an eyebrow at him and he stops looking at the billionaire out of the corners of his eyes in favor of studying the grain of the wooden table. “No, sir.” 

Tony can feel when his expression changes. It isn’t even a conscious decision when his jaw tightens at the words. Sure, people call him that all the time. Normally, they’re people who work under him, not young boys who he has actual conversations with in a coffee shop. 

“Then, uh, then why did you come back? Why did you even offer to buy me another in the first place? I spilled mine all over you. I was more ready to spontaneously combust than to be offered another.”   
Tony’s reply comes almost immediately, “You looked exhausted. Sometimes, you rake people through the coals. Sometimes, you give them the benefit of the doubt and a second chance, or a third in your case.”   
“I wish I had that much wisdom,” Peter admits.   
“Something said during a PR meeting the other day to keep in mind. I take no credit and definitely do not follow that at all.” At Peter’s small smile, he continues, “In all honesty, though, I have no idea why. You looked like a coffee would do you some good.” 

“The scars on my hands they’re a means to an end” 

Peter’s face hardens. “I was, uh, fine, but thanks.”   
“Kid,” Tony says. His voice isn’t harsh but it, combined with his words, is blunt, “You look even worse than you did yesterday. Are you sleeping okay? Or has studying for the SAT’s got you staying up all night and drinking coffee afterschool to help you stay awake in the evening?”   
“It’s not like that. I’m sleeping enough and well and yeah sometimes I get tired but if I can do well that’s all that matters.”   
Tony smiles, but there is no humor in it. “I know, Peter. Believe me, I know. Insomnia’s a bitch, huh?”   
“I don’t have that, sir, really. I just get preoccupied at night and I have so many things I still have to do and the time gets away from me.” 

“I know. Want to hear what keeps me up all night?  
“Sure.” 

“Is all that I have to show.” 

“Thoughts, really. My brain never stops ticking. Working helps. Really working, not the meetings but being sweaty and getting grease stains all over and working until you pass out on a new machine. It’s the only time I feel really accomplished and happy with myself.”   
“I understand. I’m not always up until dawn studying for SAT’s, haha.”   
“Then what are you doing? What makes all the exhaustion out of your control and everything worth it?” 

Peter takes a deep breath and seems to prepare himself. He motions towards his bag, “It’s, well, it’s part of what I’ve been working on in Chem. I like the freedom the city provides and the wind on my face and the adrenaline and everything.”   
“You’re being really vague here, Pete.” 

“I swallowed my pride and choked on my faith.” 

“I, uh, I’m Spider-Man.”   
“Sorry, who?”   
“Spider-Man. I’m not well-known or anything but there’s some stuff on YouTube and I just like helping people and stuff.”   
“So you think you’re a superhero.”   
“Nonono. I’m not a hero. I’m just you’re friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”   
“Uh-huh. Mildly concerned but go on.”   
“Well, I just like to swing around at night sometimes and feel the rush, you know? Sometimes I see people doing smaller crimes and I stop them.”   
“So, how do you “swing” around exactly?” Tony asks, complete with air-quotes. 

“That’s the Chemistry part. I’ve been working on a web-fluid solution that’s as strong as a spider’s but obviously thicker and larger.”   
“So you swing around on spiderwebs. The name makes a bit more sense now.”   
“Yeah, it’s not really all that cool but it’s what makes me feel accomplished and happy.”   
“I don’t quite now how I should feel about this information, but if it makes you happy then I guess that’s all that matters. Just don’t get caught, Peter.”   
“Don’t worry, Mr. Stark, I won’t.” 

“I've given my heart and my soul.” 

“Well,” Tony begins. “I think it’s about time I head out.”   
Peter’s smile slides to a frown at his words before he forces a smile back up. “Yeah, I understand! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”   
Tony’s face draws together and he looks off for a second before focusing back on the boy. “I’d enjoy that, but I already pushed a meeting off once for you and I don’t want to think about how pissed off they’ll be already, much less if I did it again.”   
“Oh, yeah I totally get that. I guess I’ll see you sometime then.”   
“Actually,” Tony starts as he takes out a phone, “nope not that one.” From his other pocket he draws forth another, almost identical cellphone and starts tapping the screen before holding it out, “Here.” 

Peter will admit that he snatches the opportunity too quickly. Before Tony has even held it out to him, he’s already hoping that what he thinks is happening is. The boy’s smile is wide and his body hunches over the device as if protecting it from others. With unusual ease he hands it back after typing his number and saving his contact in Tony Stark’s phone. 

“I’ll send a text later so you can have my number. Bye, Spider-Man.” Tony says before turning and striding away from the teen.   
Peter doesn’t even get a chance to reply. 

“I've broken my fingers and I've lied through my teeth,” 

Peter sits back down. His posture is forward and he’s leaning with his arms crossed flat across the table and forehead on top. “What the hell just happened? Did that even happen? I just had a whole conversation with Tony Stark over coffee. I can’t believe that happened.” 

“Neither can I,” a voice calls from in front of him. As he looks up, MJ drops her bag next to his and sits down with her drawing pad and pencils.   
“Do you know who that is?” Peter nearly shakes the table with the force of his gestures.   
MJ continues with her sketches.   
“That was Tony Stark! He’s, like, my hero. Not just because he’s Iron Man but he’s done so much good for people and I can’t believe that was really him.”   
MJ continues with her sketches.   
“And he has my number! He wanted my phone number and I gave it to him and he said that he would text me later. Do you realize how insane that is?”   
MJ continues with her sketches.   
“Okay,” Peter says after she doesn’t reply for a full minute, “I kind of deserve that.” 

“The pillar of damage control.” 

Her curls slide across the paper as her head moves in a small but distinct nod.   
“I definitely should have told you sooner about him. I just, I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t even sure that he would show up and I walked in and I didn’t think he was here so I just sat at our table and then he came over and I couldn’t text you when he was right there.” A pause, “I’m sorry,” he adds. 

“It’s fine. He looks like your type.”   
“What? No. Nonono. That’s not what that was, is. I just spilled coffee on him and he offered to buy me a new one and so we were meeting up today to do it. That’s all it is.”   
“You spilled coffee on him, and he’s the one apologizing?”   
“No, I apologized. He just felt bad for me? I guess? I don’t really know, it’s complicated.”   
“That’s lame but also he probably wants to get in your pants.” 

Peter’s face goes red as he leans forward over the table. “So, what have you been working on this whole time?”   
She silently turns the book around to show him the largest drawing towards the bottom of the page. Her hand hides the upper right corner where she had just been drawing as Peter looks at the black and white picture. His eyebrows shoot up after a second as he takes it in. The drawing is of him and Tony from MJ’s POV across the room. The man’s face is obscured, but the right side of Peter’s peaks out. She managed to capture the moment when Tony passed Peter his phone and the humiliating joy the boy had at just being able to hold it. 

“I've been to the edge” 

“How did you manage to draw that so fast?”   
“I had most of it drawn from you both just sitting. You smiled so much when you talked to him it was disgusting.”   
“Yeah? You know what’s really disgusting?” Peter grins and pushes MJ’s hand off of her paper. The half-finished drawing makes his grin widen and he glances over at the barista. She is serving a couple their coffee and he looks back at his friend with a triumphant expression. 

“So.”   
“So.” MJ doesn’t look Peter in the eyes.   
“Gay.”   
“Look who’s talking.” MJ raises an unimpressed eyebrow.   
“Excuse you, I am a bisexual.”   
“And I’m pan, your point?”   
Peter grins and shakes his head at her response. 

“And I've thrown the bouquet of flowers left over the grave.” 

“Oh yeah, Flash still thinks we’re secretly dating, by the way.”   
MJ sighs, “Do you think that he’ll ever get it?”   
“Nope. Not at this rate. Hey, maybe we should hug in front of him and see if he fanboys.”   
“How about no.”   
“How about yes?” Peter says with a touch too much enthusiasm.   
“No.”   
“Yes?”   
MJ looks up to glare at him before returning to her almost finished drawing. 

“Okay, fine, no.” When she doesn’t dignify him with another response, he reaches down and unzips his bag. The cafe is significantly quieter now that most of the older crowd fled in the wake of the teenagers and a good deal of the latter have already filtered out too. Peter pulls out a silver laptop and sets it gently on the table. Pulling the top up awakens the device and fluorescent light shines onto his face. 

“I sat in the waiting room, wasting my time”

“How was Architecture?” He asks while he types in his password and waits for it to let him in.   
“Good.”   
“Just good?”   
“Just good,” she agrees. 

When the screen comes on, Peter can’t help but smile at the screensaver. It’s of the city at sunset from the top of a building. It was taken with his phone so the proportions don’t look quite right, but it makes him happy nonetheless. His smile falls as his eyes slide over to the time. 

“And waiting for Judgment Day.”

“Oh no. Michelle, I have to go. I didn’t realize how late it was.” He rushes to turn off the computer and stuff it into his bag as she looks at him from the top of her eyes. “I’m sorry, again. I’ll make it up to you, okay? Tomorrow?”   
“Sure.”   
“Great,” he smiles and picks up his almost-full cup. “See you tomorrow, then.”   
“See you.” 

“I praise liberty,” 

Peter leaves the store feeling a whole lot better than when he went in. The sun is hidden by a thick dark cloud rolling in from the southwest and Peter frowns. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and finally sees the message he got earlier. 

MJ: ??? 

He ignores it in favor of swiping to the right. His background is replaced by a blue screen with today’s forecast broken down into hours. The 3 o’clock slot shows a yellow sun, whereas the 4 o’clock one shows a grey raincloud with only a few drops underneath. The 5 o’clock one increases the raindrops. 

“That’s just great,” Peter says to himself as he pockets the device and walks faster. “Guess I’m going early today, then.” 

“The freedom to obey,” 

“Sir, I would like to inform you that your next meeting will begin at 5,” JARVIS explains when Tony escapes from Happy Endings and relaxes in the front seat of one of his hands-free car.   
“What meeting? I thought you changed the PR meeting to tomorrow.”   
“I did. Ms. Potts has superseded my change and moved it to this evening instead. I believe she also wants to know the reason for your postponing the meeting.”   
“And you didn’t think to notify me the second she changed it in my schedule?   
“No, sir, I was under the impression you would get bored of Mr. Parker and be done long before such an issue could occur.”   
“So, if I had not left when I had, when were you planning to tell me about said meeting?” 

JARVIS, to his credit, goes silent.   
“Good talk, buddy.” 

“Is the song that strangles me.” 

Peter is swinging around Queens only 37 minutes later. The air is cooling and the wind cuts through his sweatshirt to chill his skin. Clouds cover the sky in a dark grey field that darkens the city. There are less people out and about on the streets and Peter sits on top of one of the lower buildings and lets his feet dangle off of the side while his mask sits off to his right. 

“What even was that? Oh god he must think you’re such a child. You kept smiling and talking about stuff that didn’t even matter. Chemistry class must seem like such a joke to him at this point. He’s Tony freaking Stark for crying out loud. He didn’t have to talk with you. He didn’t even have to show up but for some reason he thought you was worth it. Probably not anymore though. Not after the way you practically snatched his phone out of his hand. Do you think he’ll ever actually text you? Or was he just being nice? Probably the former because why would Tony Stark send an actual visible text to someone like you? He’s probably already forgotten about you, haha. Wouldn’t that be just wonderful?” 

“Well don't cross the line.” 

“What day is it again? Ah, yay, it’s about time for my two week slump. Yippee.” Peter sighs as his falsely cheerful exclamation fades away to a frown and lowered eyes. “I was doing so well too.” 

Even though the rain hasn’t started falling, Peter stands up and swings his way back to his backpack, and then towards home. Last year he would be much more sneaky about his habits: sneaking in through his bedroom window, or ‘sleeping over at Ned’s house,’ or a number of different excuses. 

Tonight, it’s only 4:57, so he just grabs his key from his bag and lets himself into the apartment. None of the lights are on and only a dim shine passes through floral-print curtains. Peter closed the door behind him and switches on the nearest light: a tall standing lamp in the living room. Fluorescent light illuminates the worn furniture in the living room and wooden countertop towards the kitchen side of the room. The fridge is a cream color with magnets and papers stuck on it. His stomach rumbles, but he frowns and passes by to walk down the hall to his room. 

“Oh, dream, America, dream.” 

About an hour later, Tony is finally done with his day and enters his personal elevator. “JARVIS,” He begins, “has the kid left the cafe yet?”   
“Yes, sir, it appears he left about half an hour ago.”   
“Great. The workshop, if you would.”   
“What will you be working on today, sir?”   
“I have a new project in mind.”   
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with Mr. Parker, would it?”   
“Of course not,” the tone of his voice suggests otherwise with the amount of sarcasm filling it, “You should know me better than that by now.”   
JARVIS doesn’t answer for a moment before responding, “I see.” 

The polished silver walls send a faded reflection of his appearance back to him. With a tug, he loosens his tie and slides off his jacket. Tony sighs and undoes the first couple buttons of his shirt for good measure. 

The doors slide open and he steps out into the largest floor of the building. There are no windows but it’s just as bright through fluorescent lights along the walls and several holographic screens that come to life as he steps out. He walks by several stations until he finds the one he was looking for. 

The failed schematics for a flying car model float above an angled table and with three swipes, the formulas and designs disappear. Instead, a keyboard appears with the same blue tint as the rest of the screens. Tony’s fingers press on the barely-visible keys and he watches as the title for the project aligns itself in the center of the 3 screens. 

“Spider-Man Suit”   
He could come up with a better name later. 

“I can't even sleep” 

Tony is immersed in his work. The next bother he gets is when JARVIS alerts him to the time by letting all but his current project’s screens fall away to emptiness.   
“Is it sundown already?”   
“That would be correct, sir,” JARVIS replies.   
“Shit, I need to message Pete.” 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his personal phone. The screen is blank and see-through until blue applications and options appear on the screen. Tony swipes a couple of times to get to his messages and opens up a new one to Peter. 

Tony: Hey 

“JARVIS, let me know when he messages back.”   
“Yes, sir.”   
Tony makes his way back towards where the elevator is as he slips the phone back into his pocket. To the right of the doors is a slot in the wall containing a coffee machine and to the left is a small closet. Before he makes it half-way to either, his phone vibrates and he raises and eyebrow as he takes it out. 

Peter: Mr. Stark?   
Peter: I probably shouldn’t have said that if this is just a wrong number  
Peter: Sorry 

He smiles  
Tony: Hey kid

“From the light's early dawn.” 

Tony: What’s up?   
Peter: Not much, working on homework.   
Tony: Fun   
Peter: Not really lol   
Peter: But it has to be done  
Tony: Rough   
Peter: Yeah, history is not my favorite subject in the world. Why would people want to know more about American history? Other country’s are so much more interesting.   
Tony: I agree. Germany’s a really neat country right about now. It isn’t exactly history, but within only a few more years, they will be a country fully functioning on solar power alone.   
Peter: Wow   
Peter: We suck   
Tony: Understatement of the century kid

Peter: Hold on, I’ll brb   
Peter: Have to make dinner   
Tony: Peter, it’s almost 10 pm, and you haven’t had dinner yet? 

Tony waits for the kid’s response for another minute before pocketing his phone and continuing on his mission. 

“Oh, scream, America, scream.” 

Peter wakes up to his alarm. It starts out soft, invading his dreams, before rising and startling his body from slumber. His hand immediately reaches out and hits “Snooze” but he pulls his upper body over the side of the bed anyway. His phone starts buzzing but Peter doesn’t move to grab it until it continues. 

When his eyes can stay open long enough to read it, Ned’s contact name covers the screen. “Yeah?” Peter answers.   
“Good, you’re awake. We really have to finish the lab this morning.   
“I know, man, I know. I’m awake.”   
“Cool, see you soon.”   
Peter’s stomach is empty, but he feels nauseous even so. 

“Believe what you see” 

Tony wakes up to a blaring alarm. His head jolts up and the back of his neck already hurts as his eyes focus on his surroundings. His work is sitting unfinished mid-sentence and the alarms cease when he stands up from his chair. 

“What the hell was that about?”   
“In one hour you have a press conference on your plans for the new building, sir.”   
“Press conference where?”   
“Nothing too troublesome, just outside the main doors.”   
“Ugh, I’m surprised Ms. Potts isn’t already knocking on my door to prepare.”   
“Erm, yes sir. Actually, that would be the reason I am waking you so suddenly.”   
“I’m sorry, say that again?” 

“From Heroes and Cons.”


End file.
